Solitaire
by Darthanne
Summary: Duo, a lore-master training to become a healer, is researching an extinct magical creature. He moves into the home of Quatre Barton, the shire's resident healer, to complete his training. Neither they, nor Quatre's husband, Trowa, are aware that their liv
1. One

Solitaire (1/?)

by Anne Olsen

Ratings/Warnings: PG13 – OK (Oz/Kiwi spelling/grammar) – AU, fantasy, angst, drama, romance, MPREG.

Pairing: 3x4

Author's notes: This was a writing exercise that insisted on developing a plot. After reading a few mpregs I had the urge to write one myself, just to see if I could 'pull it off'. Enter Hex and Bast. They fed the bunnies, egged me on and helped sort out a lot of the finer details such as setting, procreation, and the like. Therefore I blame them. 

Archive: 

Summary: Duo, a lore-master training to become a healer, is researching an extinct magical creature. He moves into the home of Quatre Barton, the shire's resident healer, to complete his training. Neither they, nor Quatre's husband, Trowa, are aware that their lives are about to take a very drastic turn. 

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I promise to return the boys in one piece, more or less, when I'm finished, but hold no liability for any broken bones or psychological trauma sustained by them in my fiction.

Thanks: To Bast, Hex and Lorena for beta reading. Also to Anon, Windsor and Jessica for nagging me to post it. Thanks for the support, guys. 

Comments to: anneo @ paradise.net.nz

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Chapter One

The sun was already high in the sky when Trowa woke. Careful not to disturb his sleeping lover, he stretched and slipped from the bed. Quatre rolled over to claim the spot he'd vacated, but didn't stir. 

It wasn't surprising that Quatre was tired, considering what they'd been doing almost constantly for the past four days. 

Now that Trowa finally had some time to himself, he had every intention of checking through his books. There must be something growing nearby that Quatre could have accidentally come in contact with which could be acting as a long-term aphrodisiac. Whatever it was, the effects had not been noticeable at first, apart from the fact that Quatre had been using any excuse possible to instigate physical contact. That in itself wasn't unusual - Quatre had always been an affectionate man.

Lately, however, he'd started rubbing up against Trowa like an animal in heat. 

Quatre had been upset when Trowa had used the term without thinking. "I'm not an animal," he'd pouted, running his hands beneath the coarse fabric of Trowa's shirt. "It's just…I can't get enough of you." Luckily there'd been no one around; after Quatre had pulled Trowa's shirt over his head, and then began unbuttoning his fly, they'd ended up having sex on the kitchen floor.

The next day, Trowa had hung a sign on the front door proclaiming that unless their patients were dying, both the village healers were unavailable. 

The day after that, he'd given up trying to work out what had gotten into Quatre and had decided just to go along with it. Surely, he reasoned, whatever it was would have to wear off eventually.

He just hadn't expected it to take this long.

Yawning, Trowa searched the room for where Quatre had thrown his clothes and quickly dressed. Turning at the bedroom door, he couldn't help but smile at the way in which Quatre had burrowed under the bedclothes; the only part still visible was his hair. Acting on impulse he crossed the room again to plant a kiss on the top of Quatre's head, and whisper "I love you," before leaving the room. 

He'd barely had time to fill the wash bowl with water from the pump over the sink before there was a knock at the door. Choosing to ignore it, he splashed his face with the cool liquid and then reached for a cloth to dry off. That felt better.

Trowa yawned again. Even with the sleep he'd managed to catch up on the night before, or rather by sleeping the morning away, it was going to be a few days before he felt sufficiently rested. The sign could stay on the front door until he did. He shook his head to clear it, and placed the kettle on the wood stove to boil some water. 

The knocking grew louder. 

"I've come a long way to stand in front of a closed door," the male voice sounded annoyed. "Damn it. I'm sure you're expecting me. Open up!" There was a pause and then the knocking resumed. "Or I can stand here and knock until you do…"

Sighing, Trowa opened the door and glared at the person who had dared to intrude on his peace and quiet. "My husband's asleep and I'd prefer he stays that way."

"Sorry." The man held out his hand, his apologetic stance quickly disappearing as he broke into a grin. "Duo Maxwell," he gave a mock bow, "here to watch and learn. Quatre Barton, I presume?"

"No, but you'd better come in anyway." Trowa left the door open and headed back into the kitchen. Damn it. He'd forgotten about Quatre's apprentice arriving today. Hell, he'd almost forgotten what day it was. 

Duo glanced around the kitchen and sniffed the air, before dumping his knapsack on the floor and settling himself at the table. "Have you been having an orgy in here? The place reeks." He laughed. "Or did one of your patients decide to mark its territory?"

"Are you always this forward with people you don't know?" 

"You wound me," Duo flicked his long braid behind his back and clasped his hand to his heart in mock pain. "So if you're not Quatre, I'm presuming you're the other Mr Barton? The animal healer?"

"Yes." Moving over to the stove, Trowa placed two teaspoons of ground root in his cup and poured some hot water on top. "I'm making a drink. Would you like one?"

"Please." Duo paused. "Do you have a first name?"

"Trowa." He placed two cups of steaming liquid on the table. "Quatre should be awake shortly, but I can show you your room and get you settled in the meantime." 

"Thanks, that would be great." Duo took a sip of his drink and choked. "What the hell is this stuff?"

"Chicory. Quatre makes it from a plant he discovered a few years ago." He pushed a bowl towards Duo. "It tastes bitter without sweetener. I usually add a few spoonfuls; you'll find it makes all the difference." Trowa couldn't resist a smirk. "The drink also acts as a mild stimulant although in your case I'm not sure I'd notice a difference."

"Hmm, much better," Duo decided, after following Trowa's advice. "I'm really grateful to you and Quatre for offering to put up with me for the next year. I need to spend time with a qualified healer to finish my training, and finding one in this shire was a blessing." 

"Quatre's one of the best," Trowa said. "And he's keen to pass on his knowledge to someone eager to learn." His tone suggested that Duo not being eager wasn't an option. 

"Oh I'm eager, and I have research to keep me busy too, " Duo confirmed. "I know how important it is for married couples to have time alone together."

"Research?" Trowa's eyebrow arched. "What kind of research?"

"I'm a lore-master," Duo explained. "I'm researching an extinct magical creature and I heard rumours that there used to be settlement in this area years ago." He fidgeted with the end of his braid. ""Even if any of these creatures did still exist they're probably in hiding for fear of their lives. And I wouldn't blame them."

"They were hunted to extinction?"

"Yes, and we're their natural predators – humans I mean," he added hastily. "They're hunted for their skin, it's worth a small fortune to the right people." 

"Just for their skin?" Trowa snorted his disapproval. He tolerated hunting as a necessity for food and clothing, but this was a cruel waste. "Why is it so valuable?"

"They literally mate for life. If their chosen mate dies, they usually pine for them and die shortly afterwards." Duo rolled his eyes. "And someone in their wisdom decided that this fidelity equated to sexual health and fertility, and that their dried skin would be a wonderful aphrodisiac. From what I've discovered so far, it's a myth – no truth in it at all." 

Trowa shook his head. "So they've been hunted to extinction because of a myth? Sometimes I wonder if there's much difference between ourselves and these so called animals; in fact often the animals are far more civilised than we are."

"Animals?" Duo stared at him. "Oh sorry…you thought…they aren't animals. They are of human form, but they differ from us in a few really interesting ways…magical talents for starters and…" 

"Human form?" Trowa felt sick. "They're hunting and skinning humans? That's barbaric."

"Ah, but to these hunters they aren't human; people are scared of anything different from the norm, and use that to justify their actions." Duo brought his fist down on the table. "I wonder how these hunters would feel if they had to watch their loved ones caught and skinned when they'd done nothing to provoke it." 

"You keep referring to them in the present tense." Taking a quick swig of coffee, Trowa tried to distract himself from the bile rising in his throat. "Wistful thinking?" 

"You caught me," Duo grinned. "I'd love to actually meet one of them, but of course that's very unlikely considering they're supposed to be extinct."  
  
"Supposed to be?"

"I can dream, can't I?" Duo leaned over, rummaged inside his knapsack, and laid an old book on the table. "I found this some time ago almost by accident. It had been buried, and," he pointed to the edges of the cloth cover, "those marks on the corners, I'm sure they're scorch marks." 

"Someone went to a lot of trouble to hide it…" Trowa began but Duo interrupted him.

"And that's what makes it such a fantastic find. Do you have any idea what this means?"

"I would if you told me what the significance of it was." Trowa couldn't help but wonder if encouraging Duo was really a wise move on his part. 

"Oh, haven't I done that already? Sorry." Duo took another gulp of coffee. "From what I can tell it's a personal journal kept by a human female who was bonded to…"

Trowa stood. "Why don't you wait until after you've settled in and then you can tell Quatre at the same time. It will save you having to go through it twice."

"I don't mind, really." It was difficult to ignore the pleading look in Duo's eyes. 

"It's getting late and I need to wake Quatre. Come on, I'll show you to your room." Trowa paused. "You can tell us more about the journal while we're waiting for dinner to cook. I'm sure Quatre will be very interested; he loves listening to stories." 

"Thanks." Book under one arm and knapsack slung across his shoulder, Duo followed Trowa from the room. 

"The bed's old but comfortable," Trowa told him as they entered the spare bedroom. "Quatre's emptied out the drawers and the closet so please, make yourself at home. Our bedroom is across the hall if you need anything but," Trowa couldn't resist a smirk, "make sure you knock first and it had better be an emergency if you do." 

"Right," Duo nodded. "Disturb you on the pain of death. Got it." He dumped his belongings on the bed. "By the way, thanks for the welcome again. I realise it's an intrusion having me here in your home." 

"It's not a problem," Trowa reassured him, and then left the room, closing the door behind him to give Duo some privacy. 

Crossing the hall to his and Quatre's bedroom Trowa was surprised to see Quatre hadn't moved from where he'd left him earlier. He leaned over his sleeping husband and, pulling the blankets back, kissed him on the cheek. "Wake up," he whispered in Quatre's ear. "Your pupil's here and keen to meet you."

Quatre didn't even stir.

"Cat, it's time to get up." Trowa opened the shuttered windows to let both the sun and some fresh air into the room. "Cat?" he called, louder this time.

"Quatre?" Trowa walked back to the bed and shook him.

Quatre didn't move. 

Placing his fingers at the other man's throat, Trowa sighed in relief as he felt Quatre's pulse, strong and regular. He had a contented smile on his face, and he was curled into a ball, his arms crossed against his stomach. 

"Quatre?" Trowa shook him again and frowned. He appeared to be all right, apart from his refusal to wake, but Trowa felt uneasy. Placing his hand on Quatre's forehead he was relieved that the skin felt cool to the touch, but also noticed that Quatre's complexion was still flushed. 

Trowa shook his head. He was an animal healer, not an expert on human ailments and he wasn't prepared to take any chances regarding his husband's health. Duo was a healer; and although not fully qualified, should have more of an idea as to what could be wrong. 

Covering Quatre again with the blankets, Trowa left the room and knocked on Duo's door. "Duo," he called, "I need your help."

"Just give me a minute," Duo replied. There was a loud crash from inside the room and a muttered curse. When the door opened Duo had an embarrassed half smile on his face. "I hope neither of you was too attached to that large vase. I was putting my belongings away and accidentally knocked it over. I'll clean up the mess and…Trowa, what's wrong?"

"It's Quatre." Trowa led the way to their bedroom. "He won't wake up and I was hoping you might know why."

"Uh huh. How long has he been asleep for?" 

"Nearly a day. I'm not surprised he's tired after…" Trowa stopped himself in time. "He seems all right but I'd appreciate if you'd check him over just to put my mind at ease."

"Hmm," Duo approached the side of the bed and stood for a moment watching the steady rise and fall of Quatre's chest. "Have you tried this?" He leaned over the sleeping man and put his mouth to Quatre's ear. "WAKE UP!" 

"Do you do that to all your patients" Trowa asked dryly.

"No, but you must admit it was worth a go." Duo frowned. "Hmm, that's strange." He placed a hand on Quatre's forehead. "Is his complexion normally this pink? He looks as though he should be running a fever but he's not."

Shaking his head, Trowa's concern grew. First the crash in Duo's bedroom just across the hall and now this. Why wasn't Quatre awake? "No, it's usually very pale, almost the colour of snow. The change in pigmentation occurred about a week ago, but he assured me he felt fine although he wasn't sure what had caused it."

"Do you mind if I examine him?" Duo started pulling off the blankets. "You might have to help me with his clothing." He blushed, noticing Quatre's complete state of undress. "Oh right, I see that won't be a problem. Could you help me roll him onto his back?"

Trowa moved to the other side of the bed and helped Duo to move Quatre into the position he'd requested. "Have you any idea what might be wrong with him?" 

"Not yet but let's not worry until I've figured out what isn't wrong first." Duo put his head against Quatre's chest and listened for a few moments. "He hasn't been acting unusually lately, complaining about pains or anything similar?" 

"No pains but…" Surely Quatre's unusual behaviour over the past few days didn't have anything to do with this? But what if whatever he'd come in contact had triggered other side effects besides an increased libido? 

"But?"

"Umm…I wondered if he'd been in contact with any plant life which might have had…umm…." Trowa blushed. "That smell you commented on when you arrived, it wasn't one of my patients marking its territory." Although Quatre had gotten upset about the comparison it was the best way Trowa could think of to describe the situation. "He's been acting like an animal in heat for about a week and things got quite er…intense over the past four days. " 

An eyebrow went up. "You've have been having constant sex for four days?" Duo's gaze shifted onto Trowa. "You don't appear to be having problems walking." 

Trowa sighed, realising he'd have to supply a few more details than he'd anticipated. "Even though he instigated it he insisted I take him each time. In fact he got quite upset when I suggested alternating like we usually do." 

"Hmm, interesting." Duo continued to examine Quatre, "It certainly does sound like he could have come in contact with…oh my God!" 

"What?" Trowa looked at where Duo was pointing but couldn't see anything usual. "Duo, what is it?"

"I don't believe it, I don't believe it." The tone in Duo's voice wasn't worry, but excitement. "A solitaire. It's a solitaire."

Trowa glanced at the diamond shaped markings on Quatre's stomach and shrugged. "It's his birthmark. So?"

"Birthmark?" Duo turned to stare at Trowa. "Are you sure it's a birthmark and not a tattoo?"

"Quite sure. Quatre told me it was the first time I commented on it. You're supposed to be working out what's wrong with him, not getting excited over…"

"But don't you see?" Duo outlined the shape of the mark with one finger. "It's a single diamond. This could explain everything if I'm right."

"Duo," Trowa gave him a glare. "What's wrong with him?"

Instead of answering, Duo recovered Quatre with the blankets. "I need to talk to Quatre first, and check my notes but taking into consideration everything you've said I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. Well, I suppose it depends on what you consider nothing but…"

"Duo!"

Duo patted Trowa on the arm. "It's all right, he'll wake when he's ready and I'll explain everything then." He laughed. "You're lucky it only took four days." 

"Stop talking in riddles," Trowa felt like reaching out and shaking him. "What did he come in contact with? How can you be so sure he's going to be all right?" He brushed Quatre's hair from his face and readjusted the blankets.   
  
"You really have no idea, do you?" Duo glanced at Quatre and then back again at Trowa. "I can't find anything wrong with him; the only other thing it could be is sleeping sickness and he doesn't have the symptoms." 

"You sound very certain," Trowa hoped Duo was right. The thought of Quatre never waking up wasn't an option he wanted to think about. 

"As certain as I can be," Duo smiled. "I know you're worried about him, but don't be. Why don't you make us another cup of chicory and tell me how the two of you met…." 

******

"Trowa?" Quatre patted the empty space beside him, his eyes opening with a start when he realised he was alone. He pulled himself up into a sitting position, and immediately wished he hadn't. The contents of his stomach lurched and he swallowed quickly, pulling a face at the disgusting taste in his mouth. Lowering himself back onto mattress, Quatre tried to recall what he'd eaten the night before. 

The last few days were a blur. He remembered rubbing up against Trowa, wanting him so badly that nothing else mattered. It had been as though he'd been driven by something he'd had no control over. The snatches of memory gave no clue as to why he'd behaved in that manner – but then before falling asleep that last time, he'd felt a weird contentment, an inner peace that even now made him smile. 

Thankful that his stomach had decided to behave, Quatre sat up again and swung his legs over the bed. Shading his eyes against the rays of the late afternoon sun, he wondered how long he had slept. Surely it couldn't be that late in the day already? 

Quatre glanced around to make sure he was alone, gave the open window shutters another glare and concentrated. To his surprise they stayed where they were. He closed his eyes and focused his talent again, this time speaking the command aloud. "Close!" 

They refused to budge. 

That was odd. Quatre stood, his stomach churned again, and he clung to the bedpost to steady himself. Maybe getting some food and chicory into him would help. 

All he needed to do was get from the bedroom to the kitchen without Trowa noticing he was feeling ill. Sitting back on the bed, Quatre searched the room for his clothes, grinning as he noticed how far they were scattered around the room. Trowa might have accused him of behaving like an animal but really, once his husband had given into Quatre's desires he hadn't been any less of one himself. 

There was no point in doing this the hard way. Quatre focused his ability on the various pieces of clothing, ordered them to come and held out his hand. 

Nothing happened. 

"This is ridiculous," Quatre muttered under his breath. "Is nothing working at all today?" Slipping off the bed, he began collecting his clothes, wondering how his undergarments had managed to find their way quite that far under the bed. Oh yes, now he remembered. Trowa had thrown them there after….

/Concern. Amusement. Disbelief./

"Ouch!" Quatre's head came up to hit the wooden bed frame as he jumped at the unexpected powerful emotional backwash. 

Trowa? It had to be his husband's emotions, Quatre was sensing; he knew they weren't his own. He winced again at the pain in his chest and, reaching out to find Trowa's empathic signature, backed out from under the bed. At this physical distance, he shouldn't be able to sense Trowa as strongly as this; it was as though he was standing next to him and shouting in his ear instead of the normal gentle background whisper he was used to. While it was true that he'd been able to feel Trowa more strongly than any other humans, and even more so since they'd committed to each other, Quatre had never felt anything like this. 

He reached, focusing his thoughts on his husband, and concentrated on constructing a dampening shield between them. Another aura was overlapping Trowa's but it was weak in comparison. It was harder to read, but still a lot clearer than what it would normally be. 

/Excitement, over flowing and bubbling over to drown out underlying caution./ 

Dressing quickly, Quatre padded out to the kitchen in stockinged feet to introduce himself to their visitor. 

"So do you ever get strangers in the area asking a lot of questions?" The unfamiliar voice was loud yet friendly. 

"If you mean as many questions as you've asked, the answer is no." Trowa's answer evoked a chuckle from Quatre and the two men turned their attention towards him.

"Quatre…" Trowa was on his feet immediately. "Are you feeling all right?" 

"I think so," Quatre replied cautiously, feeling much better now than he had when he'd first awoken. "I'd love a cup of chicory though."

"Sit down and I'll get you one." Trowa indicated the man sitting at the table. "Quatre, this is Duo Maxwell. He's your new apprentice." 

"Hello," Quatre held out his hand. "Quatre Barton, I'm very pleased to meet you. I'm sorry, I seem to have slept through your arrival." Duo shook Quatre's hand vigorously and his excitement seemed to grow stronger - that and his curiosity. Something brown moved from side to side behind him and Quatre's eyes widened when he realised it was Duo's hair. 

Duo, however, seemed not to notice. "Tro was wondering if you were going to wake up, but I told him not to worry."

"Tro?" Quatre couldn't help but laugh as he seated himself on the chair next to Duo. 

"Here five minutes and he's decided to shorten my name," Trowa snorted his disgust at the nickname as he placed a cup of chicory in front of Quatre. "Are you sure you're all right, Quatre?" he asked. 

One whiff of the bitter liquid and Quatre's stomach decided to show its disproval. "Have to…" Quatre pushed his chair back and ran for the door. He barely made the garden before he heaved and vomited whatever had been his last meal. 

"You're not all right," Trowa's voice was gentle, yet disapproving as he helped Quatre to his feet. "How long have you been feeling sick?"

Quatre sighed. "Since I woke up but I feel better now I've gotten rid of it. Really." He wrapped his arm around Trowa's waist and allowed himself to be led back inside. "Maybe a drink of peppermint leaf infusion might be better though, hmm?"

"You've been sick?" Duo's grin seemed to grow wider. "That's really interesting." He noticed the glare Trowa shot in his direction and shrugged. "Sorry, I didn't mean for that to come across like it probably sounded." 

"Oh?" Trowa removed Quatre's cup and busied himself making the tea his husband had requested. "Now Quatre's awake, maybe it's time you shared your brilliant theory."

Duo gave Quatre a smile. "I might need to ask you a few questions first though if that's all right. Just to confirm my suspicions of course."

Ignoring his growing unease, Quatre forced himself to return the smile. "I can't guarantee I can answer all your questions but I can try." He paused. "What's this brilliant theory about…exactly?"

Trowa placed the cup of peppermint tea in front of Quatre and slipped into the seat on his other side. He took Quatre's hand in his own and squeezed it. "I was worried when I couldn't wake you…"

"Couldn't wake me when?" Quatre frowned. "I know I've slept for longer than usual but I don't remember…"

"Trowa asked me to examine you as sick humans aren't really his speciality, being an animal healer and all." 

"You did what?" Quatre lowered his voice with an effort, knowing that it had seemed as though he'd overacted. "What did you find?" 

"I couldn't find anything wrong with you. However…" 

"However?" Trowa glared at Duo. "You told me he was all right. And I'm sorry, Cat, I was worried about you. I had to know that you were going to wake up."

Duo continued on as though there hadn't been an interruption. " Have you noticed that your skin pigmentation is back to normal?" Shaking his head, Quatre realised he hadn't looked in a mirror since he'd woken.

"And?" Quatre gripped Trowa's hand tighter, hoping his rising panic was unfounded.

"I'm a lore-master. And as I've already told Trowa I'm researching an extinct magical creature." Duo paused but Quatre knew what was coming. "Or should I say an /almost/ extinct magical creature. When I examined you I noticed your birthmark."

"That's interesting," Quatre said, pretending to sound indifferent. "But I don't see what my birthmark has got to do with your research."

"Oh, but I think you do." Duo didn't feel threatening but he was very sure of himself. "The creatures I'm researching – the males all carry that birthmark. That's where the creatures get their name."

"Solitaire," Trowa frowned. "You called it a solitaire." He glanced between them. "What's going on here? Quatre, do you know what he's talking about?" 

Even though there was no point in denying the obvious, Quatre still had to try. "It's a co-incidence. Birthmarks aren't uncommon; mine is probably only similar to those you're researching." He shrugged. "You've made a mistake; people often see what they want to, especially if they're desperate enough." 

"I don't mean you any harm," Duo reached out to touch Quatre and he pulled away. "Look I know you're scared, but I'm not a hunter. I only want to help."

"Help?" Quatre grew cold. "I'm sorry, I don't have time to listen to these stories. I…" 

"I think I know why you're feeling sick," Duo kept talking, and Quatre could feel Trowa's growing confusion. "Your magical talents…at least your ability to move objects, it's not working is it? And Trowa said you've been acting like an animal in heat." Duo paused. "When your kind goes into heat their skin pigmentation changes just like yours did."

Quatre stood and the room spun sickening as his empathic shielding crashed. He could feel everything…but most of all Trowa. Trowa's confusion was metamorphosing into an awareness of the truth, and with that truth came a disappointment and growing anger. His increased awareness of Trowa wasn't just one way; Trowa knew that Quatre realised that Duo was speaking the truth. He wasn't aware of how or why but he knew.   
  
"I'm not an animal," Quatre kept his voice firm, "nor am I a creature. I may not be fully human but that does not give you the right to refer to my kind in a derogatory manner." He removed his hand from Trowa's and met Duo's gaze straight on. "So, Duo, as you claim to know so much about me, why do you think I'm feeling sick?"

"Don't you know?"

Shaking his head, Quatre tried to remain calm. "Would I be asking if I did?" 

"Duo, is Quatre going to be all right?" It was a small relief that Trowa was still concerned for his welfare. Would he still be as accepting once the initial shock wore off and the disgust Quatre had always dreaded took over?

"Quatre, just how much do you know about yourself, about your kind?" Duo sounded sympathetic.

"Not much," Quatre admitted. "My parents abandoned me before I was five, and my grandfather – that's what I called him, I have no idea if he actually was – died in an accident when I was thirteen. He told me to hide the birthmark, and about the hunting," he glanced at Trowa. "Trowa's the only person who's seen my birthmark; but even he doesn't know the significance of it, that it's a brand to lead the hunters to their prey." 

"Quatre, I'm sorry." Duo stared at him. "Is that what you think it's for? It's not." He took a deep breath. "The Solitaire male, rather than the female, carries the children and the mark signifies the presence of the birthing sac. The pigmentation I mentioned before fades once fertilisation has taken place and that's why you're feeling sick…"

Quatre sat down with a thump. "That's not possible. Even if what you've said is true you're forgetting something. I'm a man, Duo. So is Trowa." He tried to ignore the feelings of betrayal, of disbelief from Trowa. "You need a man and a woman to make a baby. I had a mother…a human mother. I remember her."

"To make a human baby, yes. That birthing sac; it's full of eggs. When you're in heat, all that's needed is the excitement of the sexual act, and er…" Duo blushed bright red, "certain stimulation." 

"Are you trying to tell us Quatre's pregnant?" Trowa stared at Duo, and then at Quatre. "I'm going to be a father?" 

"Well, actually no. As the males carry the children, for all intents and purposes you're the mother and Quatre's the father." Duo flicked a few pages in the book on the table and coughed nervously. "Umm, maybe this sounds better? Quatre's the male, so you're the female." He smiled brightly. "So, any questions?" 

"I had a mother," Quatre repeated. "You must be wrong. I can't be pregnant. Men don't get pregnant."

"Dildos," Duo explained. "For a male to become pregnant when mating with a human female they have to…"

"We know what a dildo is, thank you," Trowa stopped him mid sentence much to Quatre's relief. "So because the females don't possess a…"

"Oh Solitaire females have the same er…equipment as the males," Duo interrupted, "But while the males carry the children, they don't feed them afterwards; that's the job of the females. It's a wonderful system don't you think? Fully shared child rearing rather than the whole thing left to one partner as we do." 

"Excuse me," said Quatre. "I think I need some fresh air." He needed to get away to think…Duo couldn't be right, could he? 

Reaching the edge of the garden, he took several deep breaths and tried to think things through. There was so much about himself he didn't know - and Duo had been correct about everything else he'd said. If he were pregnant, did this mean he wasn't the last of his kind after all? "Is this baby like me?" he wondered aloud.

"Babies," Trowa spoke quietly; Quatre had been so preoccupied that he hadn't heard him approach. "Duo says it's always a multiple birth. Apparently you only go into heat three times in your lifetime, so it's important to make each time count." 

"Oh." Quatre turned to face him, unsure of what to say. 

"Quatre," Trowa finally broke the silence between them. "Duo is right, isn't he? You are one of these…" He spoke the word hesitantly, "solitaires."

"Yes, I am." Although Quatre was still trying to adjust to the idea that he was carrying their children, Trowa had the double shock of impending parenthood and his husband not being what he appeared to be. 

"I thought…" Trowa paused and he examined the ground between them. "I…everything happened so fast in there. At first I didn't believe him but then I realised that you did." Trowa raised his head but wouldn't meet Quatre's eyes. "Do you know what it was like finding out about you from someone else?"

"Trowa, I'm sorry. I should have told you, but I was scared. How could I tell you I wasn't human?" He put out his hand to stroke Trowa's cheek but Trowa pulled away. 

"I let Duo examine you." Trowa shook his head. "What if he'd been someone else? He told me about the hunters, what if he'd been one of them? I could have lost you because you didn't trust me enough to tell me." 

"I couldn't. Don't you see that? It was safer for both of us if you didn't know. I couldn't take the risk."

"I would have never betrayed you, Quatre."

Quatre took a step closer, his voice cracking when he spoke. "What you don't know can't be tortured out of you. I know you wouldn't have betrayed me intentionally, but I've heard stories; Duo isn't the only one who's done research." He laughed bitterly. "Although it seems as though his research was rather more thorough than my own, but then I suspect he didn't have the added problem of trying to hide the fact of who or what he was." 

"I could have helped," Trowa insisted.

"Even after you'd found out what I really was? Would you have still wanted to?"

"At least I would have had the option of making that decision for myself."

"I thought I was doing the right thing for both of us; that I was keeping you safe. There was no need for you to know; if this hadn't happened you still wouldn't."

"No need for me to know?" Trowa echoed. One hand clenched and unclenched. "We're married, Quatre! When I committed to you it was because I loved and trusted you; I thought you felt the same way." 

"I wanted you to love me for who I am, not be disgusted by what I am." Quatre doubted there was anything he could say which could make Trowa understand the decisions he'd made or forgive his betrayal.

"What you are isn't a problem, Cat, at least to me. I love you, I thought you realised that." He bent and kissed Quatre on the forehead. "I'll be there for you, for our children, but for the moment I need time. This is too much, too fast." He turned and walked back into the house.

Quatre felt numb. In the space of not even an hour his world had come crashing down around him. "I wish I knew how to make this better, Trowa, but I don't." It was too late to promise anything; he'd already broken the promises he'd made to Trowa when they'd married. They'd been going to share everything, and yet Quatre had never managed to find the courage to share the most important thing of all. He only hoped that Trowa would forgive him. 

There was a noise behind him. "Trowa, is that you?" It would have been easy enough to use his talents to make sure but he didn't want to risk damaging their relationship any further. 

Wincing at a sharp pain, Quatre brought his hand up to the side of his neck. When he brought it down there was a tiny dart in his palm. His vision blurring, Quatre stumbled and fell to his knees. He was dimly aware of a figure standing over him. "Trowa?" 

And then everything went black. 

*****

End of Chapter One

TBC


	2. Two

Solitaire (2/?)

by Anne Olsen

Ratings/Warnings: PG13 – OK (Oz/Kiwi spelling/grammar) – AU, fantasy, angst, drama, romance, MPREG.

Pairing: 3x4

Author's notes: This was a writing exercise that insisted on developing a plot. After reading a few mpregs I had the urge to write one myself, just to see if I could 'pull it off'. Enter Hex and Bast. They fed the bunnies, egged me on and helped sort out a lot of the finer details such as setting, procreation, and the like. Therefore I blame them. J 

Archive: 

Summary: Duo, a lore-master training to become a healer, is researching an extinct magical creature. He moves into the home of Quatre Barton, the shire's resident healer, to complete his training. Neither they, nor Quatre's husband, Trowa, are aware that their lives are about to take a very drastic turn. 

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I promise to return the boys in one piece, more or less, when I'm finished, but hold no liability for any broken bones or psychological trauma sustained by them in my fiction.

Thanks: To Bast and Hex for beta reading. Also to Anon and Jessica for fic stalking. 

Comments to: anneo @ paradise.net.nz

=============================================================

Chapter Two

Trowa re-entered the house and headed for the bedroom. Duo looked up from his book as he passed, but Trowa ignored him. He needed time alone to think; Duo had asked enough questions for one day."

/"There was no need for you to know."/

They were married. How could Quatre think he didn't need to know? Walking into the bedroom and closing the door behind him, Trowa sat down on their bed with a thump. Swinging his legs over, he leaned back on the pillows and closed his eyes in an attempt to focus his thoughts.

What else did Quatre think he didn't need to know? 

/"Your magical talents…at least your ability to move objects, it's not working is it?"/

Quatre hadn't denied Duo's question, neither had he answered it. Frowning, Trowa grabbed the end of one of the blankets and clenched his fist around it as he remembered an incident from a few months ago. One of his patients had been brought in with heavy bleeding and he'd sent Quatre to collect the herbs he'd needed. After the animal had stabilised he'd realised that the medicine had been out of reach on the top shelf of the cabinet and that the step stool was still broken. Quatre had smiled, shrugged, and told him there had been some left of the previous batch; a batch that Trowa clearly remembered using the last of the day before. 

Obviously Quatre had lied to him. 

Letting the blanket fall from between his fingers, Trowa opened his eyes and rolled over to stare at Quatre's side of the bed. 

/Quatre, I love you. I trusted you./

Didn't love and trust go together? 

/"Trowa, I love you."/ 

During the six months they'd been married and the five years spent getting to know each other, Trowa couldn't remember Quatre ever saying that he returned that trust. 

Closing his eyes again he mouthed the words again. /Quatre, I love you. I trusted you./ The image of Quatre in his memory brought his hand up to Trowa's brow and stroked it, but his smile was sad.

/"I know you did, Trowa."/ 

/I don't care what you are, Cat. You're still the person I fell in love with, that hasn't changed. I just….

I don't know if I'll ever be able to trust you again./ 

A sudden falling sensation caused Trowa to open his eyes with a start and he was surprised at the coldness of the room. Deciding he must have dozed off for a moment, he moved over to the window to close the shutters. The sun had gone behind a cloud; the drop in temperature heralding the approaching dusk. 

Glancing out into the garden, he was surprised that Quatre was nowhere in sight. But then, he'd probably come inside by now and would be in the kitchen talking to Duo. Hopefully Duo would give them some time alone; Trowa needed to talk to Quatre about their sleeping arrangements for tonight. As much as he wanted to pretend nothing had changed, he wasn't sure that he could cope with sharing a bed just yet. He'd sleep in front of the fire and leave Quatre theirs; it was important he take care of himself and their unborn children.

What Duo had told them didn't seem possible, yet Trowa knew that he was right. If Duo hadn't arrived today, how long would it have taken Quatre to reveal his pregnancy? Had he truly been as unaware of his condition as he'd claimed? Trowa had the momentarily unpleasant thought that Quatre might have used him to ensure the continuation of his line but he dismissed it. 

Quatre wasn't like that; he couldn't be like that. 

Could he? 

Walking out into the kitchen, he was surprised to be met by silence. Duo looked up from his book and smiled a greeting. "I helped myself to some chicory," he said, "I hope that's all right; I seem to be developing a taste for it." 

"That's fine," Trowa nodded his approval. "Have you seen Quatre? I need to talk to him."

"He hasn't come inside yet." Duo frowned. "I'm sorry about before. This must be a terrible shock for you." He twirled the end of his braid around his fingers. "I guess I was so excited about finding Quatre that I didn't stop to think about how it might effect both of you." Duo paused. "You've known him all this time and you never even suspected?"

"No." Trowa wasn't in the mood to enter into a discussion now. "Duo, I think you've said enough for one day. Quatre and I need some privacy so I'd appreciate it if you'd make yourself scarce."

"It's the least I can do." Duo stood and started gathering his books together. "By the time you come back I'll be in my room. I've had a long day and I'm tired."

"Thank you." Trowa closed the door behind him to keep in the warmth and walked quickly out into the garden. 

Quatre wasn't there. 

"Quatre?" he called. "Cat?" 

Reaching the spot where he and Quatre had argued, Trowa called again but there was no reply. Ignoring his growing unease, Trowa checked the perimeter of the garden but to no avail. Although Quatre did have a tendency to go for long walks when he was upset, it was growing late and cold, and he now had the added responsibility of the wellbeing of the children he carried - their children. 

"Quatre?" Trowa started back towards the house, intending to collect a cloak for both himself and his husband. He'd start looking on the trails he knew Quatre favoured and then spread out from there. Duo could help. 

A sliver of sunlight glanced off a small object on the path leading from the gate. His stomach knotting, Trowa bent to retrieve it. As he'd thought, it was a tiny metal dart such as those favoured by hunters who wanted to capture, but not kill, their prey. One whiff confirmed his fears as he recognised the familiar smell of the sleeping potion he sometimes used to sedate uncooperative animals in order to treat them. 

/"They're hunted for their skin, it's worth a small fortune to the right people."/

Oh God. Someone had taken Quatre. 

His mind filled with images of Quatre lying restrained on a slab while the sharp edge of a knife marked pale smooth skin into sections, ready to begin harvesting it piece by bloody piece. 

Trowa sunk to his knees and vomited, his stomach churning as he tried to ignore the acid burning his throat. Wiping his hand across his mouth, he struggled to his feet. He couldn't think about that now. Quatre had to be all right; he had to be. 

He'd told Quatre he needed time but how much time did /Quatre/ have? Soon it would be dark; he'd need to move quickly if there was any chance of tracking Quatre and whoever had taken him. 

Running for the house, Trowa left the door swinging behind him as he headed for his surgery? "Duo," he yelled. "Duo!" 

"What?" By the time Duo poked his head through the door, Trowa had his bow on his back and his staff in his hand. "Trowa, what's wrong?" Duo glanced around the room. "Where's Quatre?"

"He's gone. I found a dart laced with sleeping potion." He handed it to Duo. "What can you tell me about these hunters?"

"Not a lot." Duo sniffed the dart. "I don't recognise the smell, it's not one I've used before."

Trowa's expression was grim. "That's because it's usually only used on animals." He grabbed a knapsack from the corner of the room. "I only use it when I have to as it causes dizziness and nausea, and has to administered in large quantities to be effective." 

"Give me a moment to collect some supplies. I'm coming with you." 

"If you are, you'd better hurry," Trowa told him. "I'm leaving in a few minutes. One of our neighbours has a dog he uses for tracking; hopefully he can pick up Quatre's scent." Gripping the wooden staff firmly in one hand, he headed towards the door. "If you're not…."

The room spun and Trowa almost lost his footing. The staff hit the floor with a thud after he brought his hand to his chest in response to the sharp pain. 

/Confusion. Fear. Panic./ 

He was drowning in a wave of emotions he knew weren't his own. Closing his eyes in an attempt to shut out them out, Trowa was barely aware of Duo's arms around him as he tried to offer support. 

/"Trowa!"/

Even though he knew it was impossible, Trowa was sure he'd heard Quatre call his name. "Cat," he whispered, "where are you?" 

******

Quatre gingerly opened first one eye, then the other, and groaned. Struggling into a sitting position, he attempted to ignore the thumping in his head as his stomach lurched and he tasted bile. 

It took several moments for it to register that the black lines in front of his eyes were metal bars. 

The attempted curse came out as a croak; Quatre brought his hand up to his throat only to be stopped by a barrier of cold steel around his neck. Looking down, he tried to ignore his rising panic when he realised that the chain attached to the collar was anchored to a metal ring fixed into the floor by his feet. 

Straining his eyes in the half dark, he examined his surroundings; the only light source appeared to be a small rectangular slot, presumably for ventilation, cut into the wall on the other side of the room. The cage he was in took up about half the floor space; the two smaller cages on either side were empty. There was a walk space of about a foot around each cage and while the floor surrounding the caged area was wooden, that of the cage itself was metal. 

The floor tilted without warning and Quatre grabbed hold of one of the cage bars to stop himself sliding. Outside a woman cursed, horses neighed in protest and the ground beneath him levelled again. 

What was this place? The straw lining the floor and the strong animal smell in the air only served to confirm his fear. An empty feeding bowl was jammed between two of the metal bars and, bringing his feet together, he kicked at it in the hope that he could do some damage by dislodging it but to no avail. 

He had to get out of here before his captors noticed he was awake. Forcing himself to stand, Quatre closed his eyes and pictured the cage opening and his restraints breaking apart. 

Nothing happened. 

Why wasn't it working? Quatre yanked at the chain around his neck frantically with both hands but it refused to budge. Another wave of nausea hit and he dry retched before sliding down the bars into a sitting position. 

Duo's questions had implied that the disappearance of his talent was connected with the pregnancy. It didn't make sense. He needed it now more than ever to ensure both his own survival and that of his children. 

One hand caressed his stomach. Trowa had said that he still loved him, but how long would it take before the look in his eyes changed to one of disgust once the reality of what Quatre was truly fully sunk in. 

How could he have been so stupid as to drop his guard? Being with Trowa, safe in his arms each night, Quatre had allowed himself a contentment he'd never dared before. And now he was paying for it.

Quatre curled himself into a ball and hugged his knees. No, he wouldn't allow himself to think like that. He needed to hang onto that hope, to believe that once he got out of here, that he and Trowa still had a future together. 

/Unease. Fear. Panic. Anger/

"Trowa?" Quatre whispered his husband's name as he recognised Trowa's unique empathic signature. His sense of Trowa was much stronger than it had been; was it possible to use that to his advantage? Closing his eyes, he pictured first his surroundings, and then Trowa's face, in his mind and focused his remaining talent to send a message to the one person who might be able to 'hear' him.

****** 

"Trowa?" Duo sounded worried. "What is it?"

"Quatre. I can feel him..." Trowa took several deep breaths, aware of how unbelievable the words sounded.

"You can feel him?" Duo stared at Trowa, his mouth opening and closing several times before he spoke again. "But that's not possible. I never anticipated…but you're human."

"Duo, I haven't got time for this." Trowa shot him a glare. "What just happened?"

"Huh?" Duo seemed to suddenly realise that Trowa was still waiting for an answer. "Quatre has magical talents, several actually. His ability to move objects with his mind isn't working at present because of the pregnancy." Duo took a breath. "In order to protect the unborn children, his mental energy has been redirected from that to strengthening his empathy; or to be more precise, his empathic connection with his mate, which in this case is you."

"Empathy?" Trowa frowned. What else hadn't Quatre told him? 

"The ability to sense emotions," Duo told him helpfully. 

"I know what empathy is," Trowa didn't bother to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "Duo, get to the point."

"But you're human, you don't have empathic abilities. According to my research, you shouldn't be able to sense Quatre at all." 

"Your research must be wrong," Trowa said. He hefted the knapsack onto his back. "Is there anyway we can use this to find him?" 

"I don't know," Duo shook his head. "If there is it's nothing I've heard about. But maybe…"

"Maybe?" Trowa began walking towards the door. "We can discuss this on the way. The longer we wait, the colder the trail grows." There had been no mistaking the fear and isolation he'd felt from Quatre. Whoever had him was going to regret what they'd done. "I'll go saddle the horses; you can borrow Quatre's." 

******

Quatre's eyes snapped open when he heard the door, but it was closed too quickly for him to see what lay beyond. The woman entering the room was slim, blonde, and flanked by two armed men. 

Smiling at him through the bars, she filled a cup from a large bucket. "Would you like a drink? I'm sure that dry throat must be bothering you terribly."

Quatre ignored her. 

"Come now." She shook her head sadly. "There's no point in pretending you don't understand me." 

Gesturing to one of the men, she stood to one side while he unfastened the lock on the cage and then entered ahead of him. "Drink," she ordered, holding out the cup. 

When Quatre continued to ignore her, she snapped her fingers and one of the men walked over and pulled him to his feet. "Lady Dorothy told you to drink." 

"Be careful," Dorothy said. "We don't want to damage the merchandise." 

Quatre shook off the man and reached out for the water. Sniffing it, he took a cautious sip. It tasted all right. Taking another sip, he decided that if he wanted to maintain his fluid levels, he really didn't have a choice. "Thank you," he said, returning the cup after he'd drained it. 

She raised one eyebrow. "Your master has trained you well. I'm impressed."

"Master?" Quatre stared at her. 

"Healer Barton," Dorothy explained, rolling her eyes. "Don't tell me you've forgotten him already."

"Trowa's not my master. He's my…" Quatre caught himself in time. It was safer for Trowa if she didn't learn of their relationship. "He's my friend. And," he continued, shaking the chain leading from his collar, "I am not a slave, nor am I merchandise." 

"Your /friend/ may have seen it fit to let you roam around freely but I do not. I'm sure he will realise his error in judgement when he finds you gone."

"He didn't /let/ me roam around freely. We…You have no right to keep me here."

"What you are gives me that right." Dorothy sighed. "The chain is for your own safety, and to ensure the safety of your cubs."

"How dare you presume to take responsibility for…" Quatre took a step forward, his voice trailing off as he tried to control his anger. How did Dorothy know about his pregnancy? If she'd overheard their conversation in the garden, she would have also known he and Trowa were married. 

"You should consider yourself fortunate that I have. Your kind is almost extinct; obviously you are not able to care of either yourselves or your offspring if left to your own devices." 

"/Your/ kind has hunted us to extinction." Quatre glared at her as she attempted to stroke his hair. "Keep your hands off me!" 

"Quite the wild animal, aren't we?" Dorothy chucked. "I've already /had/ my hands on you. How do you think I discovered you were with cub?" Quatre shuddered and pulled away, his stomach churning at the thought of what she must have done while he'd been unconscious. "It's almost a shame you /aren't/ human." Her eyes glinted, then narrowed. "I suspect your mate is missing you terribly." 

"My mate is none of your concern," Quatre told her, "and I will not allow either you or your men to harm my children." 

"I have no intention of harming either you or your cubs." Dorothy shook her head. "You should be thankful that it was I who found you; your skin would fetch quite a high price on the black market." 

"If you have no intention of harming me, let me go."

"I can't do that. You're an endangered magical species. If I let you go I'm dooming you to extinction. This way you and your cubs have a future to look forward to. My client is very keen to add you to his collection; he was very excited when I informed him of your condition. Captive breeding is one of Lord Tuberov's special interests." 

"Captive breeding?" Quatre didn't try to hide his disgust. "You can't sell me to a zoo; I'm not an animal!" 

"Your opinion doesn't concern me." Dorothy sighed. "It's a shame I don't have your mate. But then, you grew careless, maybe he or she will too."

She signalled to the man still standing outside the cage. "The hour grows late and we have a fair distance to cover before first light." The man nodded and approached. In his hand were handcuffs and a thick strip of fabric. 

"No," Quatre said, backing away. Strong hands caught him from behind, and he brought up one knee to kick his captor in the groin. Gripping the length of chain he stepped to the side of the man and wrapped it around his neck. "Let me go or I'll kill him," he threatened. 

Reaching inside her pocket, Dorothy showed him a glass vial. "Be reasonable. I know your condition prevents you using your abilities and I have the only key to that lovely collar you're wearing. If you don't release him, I'll be forced to administer more of this nice sleeping potion."

Quatre tightened his grip on the chain and moved the man in front of him as a shield. "Stay away from me!" he growled.

"And I'd so hoped you were going to be co-operative," Dorothy waggled one finger at him. "You do understand that I can't risk you calling out and being discovered once we're under way. You can yell for help now if you wish, but no one will hear you, we're miles away from anyone. Go on," She smiled at him, "I'm sure you want to." 

"I wouldn't give you the satisfaction." Quatre dropped the chain and released the man. Dorothy was right - he wouldn't be able to get past the confines of the cage, nor would he risk the lives of his children by exposing them to more of the sedative. 

The man rubbed his neck for a moment and then, none too gently, forced Quatre's hands behind his back. "Be careful, Mueller," Dorothy chastised. "Lord Tuberov will not be happy if there are any /visible/ marks on his new purchase." 

Bands of metal encircled his wrists with a click as the other man joined Mueller to assist in restraining him. "Alex, wait," Dorothy said. "I'd prefer the satisfaction of doing this myself." Retrieving the gag, she paused in front of Quatre and traced the line of his cheek with one perfectly manicured finger. "Exquisite," she purred, "simply exquisite." 

She slipped the material between his teeth, secured it, and then gave him a pat on the head. Turning on her heels, she and the two men exited the cell, locking it behind them. Dorothy stood in the outer doorway momentarily, illuminated by the fading sunlight, and Quatre realised that he was in the back of a wagon. "Sleep well, my pet," she called. "You'll want to look your best for your new owner."

The door slammed behind her, leaving Quatre alone once more. The remaining light was deserting him and he shivered as the cold breeze whipped through his prison, whistling through his only link with the outside world. Dropping to his knees, he realised he was shaking. 

/Trowa,/ he thought. /Where are you?/

******

End of Chapter Two

TBC


	3. Three

Solitaire (3/4)

by Anne Olsen

Ratings/Warnings: PG13 – OK (Oz/Kiwi spelling/grammar) – AU, fantasy, angst, drama, romance, MPREG.

Pairing: 3x4

Author's notes: This was a writing exercise that insisted on developing a plot. After reading a few mpregs I had the urge to write one myself, just to see if I could 'pull it off'. Enter Hex and Bast. They fed the bunnies, egged me on and helped sort out a lot of the finer details such as setting, procreation, and the like. Therefore I blame them. J 

Archive: 

Summary: Duo, a lore-master training to become a healer, is researching an extinct magical creature. He moves into the home of Quatre Barton, the shire's resident healer, to complete his training. Neither they, nor Quatre's husband, Trowa, are aware that their lives are about to take a very drastic turn. 

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I promise to return the boys in one piece, more or less, when I'm finished, but hold no liability for any broken bones or psychological trauma sustained by them in my fiction.

Thanks: To Bast and Hex for beta reading. Also to Anon, Windsor and Jessica for their support and fic stalk...er...encouragement.

Comments to: anneo @ paradise.net.nz

=============================================================

Chapter Three

The light was failing, but there was still enough to see several feet ahead. Trowa guided his horse over a rough patch of terrain before waiting for Duo to come along beside him. 

Shortly after they'd left, Trowa had experienced a strange tugging sensation at the edge of his mind, a sensation that seemed to ebb and wane. Several times he'd turned, certain that he'd heard Quatre calling, only to notice Duo staring at him. Duo had said that Quatre's kind forged a strong empathic bond with their mates once they became pregnant; could it be possible that one of the reasons why was that so each would be able to track the whereabouts of the other? 

Deciding he couldn't afford to dismiss the idea, Trowa had closed his eyes and, focusing his thoughts on his missing husband, tried to work out what direction gave a stronger sense of his presence. It had taken several attempts to discover how the talent worked but by the time they reached the neighbour's property, the dog was no longer needed. Trowa had developed his own tracking skill. 

It had then been necessary for Trowa to stop ignoring Duo's questions and attempt an explanation. Duo had nodded sagely but grown suspiciously quiet, and they'd continued on until now in welcome silence.

"I'm still finding it difficult to believe that you're able to use your connection to Quatre to track him." Duo interrupted Trowa's thoughts, his tone suggesting that he was already thinking of the research potential of Trowa's newfound ability. 

"I thought you were an expert on the Solitaires?" Trowa remarked absently as he tried to focus on which direction they should be heading next. 

"I am an expert!" Duo proclaimed indignantly. "I probably know more about them than anyone else." 

"Why does that statement not instil the confidence in me it's meant to?" Trowa raised one eyebrow. 

Duo gave him a sheepish smile. "Up to two years ago, I'd only heard of the Solitaires in the stories I'd been taught, and often stories become embellished as they are passed from master to apprentice." He shrugged. "The tales fascinated me - I've always been interested in magical talents although I never truly believed the rumours regarding the way they procreated until I found the journal."

"Legends and stories often have more of a degree of truth to them than people realise." Visualising Quatre again in his mind, Trowa focused and 'reached' for him. "They must be still moving," he told Duo. "The slower we travel, the weaker my sense of him seems to grow. Is it possible that this hunter might be working for someone else?"

"I suppose it's possible. After all, the use of the sleeping dart seems to suggest they were more interested in taking Quatre alive than just harvesting…" Duo winced apologetically, quickly changing tact. "You know this area better than I do. If they've arranged to rendezvous with a potential buyer, where would be somewhere suitably private where they could enact their transaction without being disturbed?" 

"The borders of the Eastern Forest are several hours' journey from here; there's a clearing about two miles in which would be ideal." Trowa urged his horse into a gallop, and Duo followed his lead. 

There wasn't much they could do before first light, even in the unlikely event they did reach their destination before morning. Negotiating the forest in the dark would be dangerous and a torch would take away any element of surprise.

/Hold on, Quatre,/ Trowa thought. /I'm on my way./

******

Sudden coldness caressed Quatre's cheek and, flinching under its touch, he pulled himself into a ball. Judging from the temperature it wasn't long past dawn; another whisper of wind brushed his exposed skin and he shivered. 

Rough hands grabbed the collar around his neck and he was dragged to his feet. 

Opening his eyes, he blinked against the bright light from the open door. One of the men from the night before was staring down at him, a twisted grin on his face. 

"The poor animal is scared," Mueller sneered. He gave the chain attached to the collar a sharp yank. "Not so brave now you're trussed up and can't talk, are you?"

Quatre's voiced protest came out as a grunt through the gag, and he kicked Mueller in an effort to free himself from the other man's grasp. 

"Damn you," Mueller muttered, letting out a gasp of pain as he released his grip. Quatre backed away, glancing around for anything he might use to defend himself. 

Mueller placed one foot on the length of chain, bent down and yanked again, hard. Handcuffs clanked against steel as Quatre frantically tried to latch onto the bars behind him with his fingers. However, it was impossible with the limited mobility imposed by his restraints and he slowly slid down the wall of his prison before connecting with the floor with a hard thump. The pressure around his throat tightened and Quatre was dragged towards his tormenter as Mueller reeled him in like a landed fish. 

"Should I keep you or throw you back?" Mueller debated, dropping the chain with a clunk, as the handcuffs caught on an uneven section of floor a few inches from his feet. 

Pulling at the cuffs, Quatre tried to disentangle himself to get away from the man, but to no avail. He kicked at Mueller, but the man smiled and deliberately moved just out of reach. 

"Temper, temper. That's not going to make a good impression on your new owner, is it?" Mueller shook his head in mock sadness. "And don't worry I won't hurt you…at least not noticeably. Not if you behave." He grinned, stood a step closer and dropped to his knees. One hand came out to restrain Quatre's legs as he tried to kick again, and the other stroked his stomach. "I know a lot of women lose their young in the early stages; what would it take for one of your kind to miscarry I wonder?" 

His hand moved up to rest on Quatre's chest. "Kick again, and I'll test that theory. Notice how you've been dragged on your back, not your stomach. Next time I might not be so thoughtful." Mueller yanked on the collar, using it to pull Quatre's head off the ground. "You're very feisty. No wonder Barton wanted to keep you for himself."

Quatre glared at him, but didn't move. The collar dug into the back of his neck, and there were black spots in front of his eyes. It would be so easy just to give into the darkness, but he wasn't prepared to give this animal the satisfaction of even the smallest victory. 

The hand slipped inside his shirt and Quatre shuddered. "Why exactly was Barton so fond of you, I wonder?" Mueller chuckled. "Now you're gone he'll have to find himself another pet. I'm sure he'll thank me for it later." 

No, Trowa would be looking for him. In spite of what he'd done. Quatre bit down on his bottom lip and tried to banish any doubt of rescue from his mind.

"Oh of course not, you wouldn't know, would you?" Mueller's eyes glinted dangerously. "I was the one who told Lady Dorothy where to find you. Asking all those questions last year wasn't a wise move on your part."

There had been rumours of a settlement of magical creatures in the neighbouring shire, and while Trowa had visited the market place for supplies, Quatre had taken the opportunity to ask a few questions. He'd worded the questions carefully so as not to arouse suspicion, but obviously he hadn't been cautious enough. 

"And don't think for a moment that I've forgotten what you did you me last night, you little shit." Mueller removed his hand from inside Quatre's shirt and rubbed at his own neck. "Maybe you'd like me to show you just how much it hurt!" He let go of the chain and Quatre's head hit the floor with a thump. His stomach lurched again and he dry heaved. 

/Leave me alone!/ he yelled silently. 

"Mueller, get away from him this instant!" 

His head turning in the direction of the angry female voice, Mueller gave a sigh. "I was only having some fun," he told Dorothy. "You've got to show these animals who's in control."

"There's only one person in control here," she retorted, "and it's not you."

Jerking at his cuffs again, Quatre struggled to pull himself into a sitting position as they came free from the section of floor. He turned his head to the side, choking as the contents of his stomach dribbled out the side of the gag. He heaved again, and the bile, having no where else to go, spluttered out his nostrils. Losing his breath, he thrashed around wildly, sending Mueller sprawling in a sudden kick.

"It's all right, I won't hurt you," Dorothy's voice was surprisingly soft. "I know you're scared," she continued in the same even tone, "but I can't help if you continue to struggle."

Hands stroked his hair, and the gag was loosened. Quatre spluttered and took great gulps of air. "Water," he gasped. "Please…" His throat was dry; each word was an effort, and he needed to get rid of the awful taste in his mouth. 

"Mueller, fetch me the water," Dorothy placed a hand on each side of Quatre's head and turned him to face her. "I will clean you up and allow you to drink, but if you continue in this violent behaviour there will be consequences. Do you understand?"

Quatre nodded. There was no point in arguing; he would be better off saving his energy in the hope there might be a chance of escape later. If he seemed cooperative they might lower their guard.

A cup was pressed to his lips and he drank noisily. Dorothy then moistened a cloth and used it to wipe away the vomit from around his nose and mouth. "That's much better," she remarked. "We can't have you looking less than your best for your new owner." Her tone hardened. "While Tsuberov prefers to his purchases to be alert while he carries out his initial inspection, he also understands the need to sedate dangerous wild animals."

Standing, she smiled at him before signalling Mueller to follow her. "And in the future, Mueller, remember that a firm hand and human kindness is the more efficient way to deal with /these animals/ and ensure their cooperation."

******

By the time Trowa and Duo reached their destination, the sun was coming up, golden rays illuminating the canopy of trees above them. After tending briefly to the horses, they left them secured at the edge of the forest and continued their journey on foot. The clearing wasn't very far in and, unsure as to the strength and numbers of their enemy, their only advantage was the element of surprise. 

"Someone's come through here very recently," Duo confirmed, as they followed the makeshift thoroughfare. "The road's not wide but it wouldn't be impossible to manoeuvre a wagon through here." He pointed to the ground and then to the bushes on either side. "I suspect it was a tight fit, but if you…Did you hear that? I'm sure I heard horses's hooves and someone cough."

"Hmm?" Shortly after they'd entered the forest, the sense of urgency and panic Trowa had been sensing had grown stronger. "Duo, I think…" His stomach churned, his surroundings spun and Trowa clung to the nearest tree for support.

"Trowa, are you all right?"

"I don't…" Fear and pain struck as one. He couldn't breath. Trowa leaned against the tree, his breath coming in sudden gasps as he struggled to fill his lungs with air. His stomach lurched again and he vomited several times. 

/Quatre, what are they doing to you?/

"Trowa? Trowa, are you all right?" After the other man repeated his earlier question, Trowa realised that Duo was leaning over him. 

"It's Quatre," Trowa explained, wiping his hand across his mouth. "Our connection seems to be growing in strength. I'm not sure whether it's because of the closer proximity or…"'

"You can feel his morning sickness too?" Duo's eyes were bright with excitement. "That's just…I can't believe it. This is the research opportunity of a lifetime. Can you imagine the potential?"

"Would it help if I threw up on you next time?" Trowa asked dryly. "Duo, my husband is running out of time. Unless you have something useful to say, please keep your enthusiasm to yourself." He took a swig from his water skin. "I'm sorry. I didn't meant to sound so brusque."

"No, I'm the one who should apologise." Duo at least had the decency to look shamefaced. "Quatre's in danger and I'm enthusing about my research. Are you feeling any better?"

Trowa nodded. "Yes." Whatever had caused the sudden surge in the link had subsided to leave him with a mere queasiness that was fading with each passing minute. He reached out again for Quatre and to his surprise felt an answering caress against his mind. A tiny smile crossed his lips as he send back reassurance through their empathic link. "We must be close. He knows I'm here." Squashing a surge of hope, Trowa turned to Duo again. They couldn't afford to focus on anything but the task at hand. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." Duo patted the blowgun tucked into his belt and grinned. "They won't realise what's happening until it's too late."

"Hopefully." Trowa gripped his staff in both hands; he didn't intend to use the bow and arrows strapped to his back unless he had to. However, as much as he disliked killing, he wouldn't hesitate to do so if Quatre's life were threatened. 

Leaving the main path, they crept towards the glade ahead in silence. Pulling Duo with him, Trowa ducked behind the cover of a large bush when he heard voices. 

Two men walked past their hiding place. "Bloody animal." said one of them. He was limping. "If she hadn't interrupted me…"

"You're lucky she did," the other one replied. "Damaging the merchandise lowers its value." The first man snorted but it was impossible to make out his muttered reply. 

"We need to get Quatre out of there /now/," Trowa's voice was cold. If they'd harmed Quatre they'd have more to worry about than a limp by the time he'd finished with them. 

"Just keep calm," Duo advised, placing a restraining hand on him. "This is only going to work if we have the element of surprise."

"I am calm," Trowa snapped back. "Now are you coming or not?" He shook off Duo's hand and rose to his feet. Duo sighed, took the blowgun out of his belt, and followed.

Using his experience in tracking animals, it wasn't difficult to keep several steps behind the men without being noticed. Once they'd entered the makeshift camp, Trowa signalled to Duo to take up a position behind one of the wagons, and he closed his eyes in order to pinpoint Quatre's exact location. 

"Take your hands /off/ me!" Quatre's voice was controlled but angry. 

Trowa's eyes snapped open at the sound of his husband's voice and he edged closer. In the centre of the circle of wagons stood a man and a woman. The men Trowa had overheard earlier were dragging a struggling Quatre from the wagon furthest away from where he and Duo were hiding. There was a collar and chain around Quatre's neck and his arms were restrained behind him. Another yank on the collar and Quatre was brought to stand before the waiting couple. 

"You were right, Lady Dorothy, he's a fine specimen." The man who spoke was older, his accent and style of dress betraying his aristocratic roots. His eyes narrowed, his face creasing into permanent frown lines. This was a man used to being obeyed.

"I am not a specimen and you have no right to do this," Quatre insisted, his eyes flashing. 

"Feisty too," the man chuckled, "although he seems to be rather vocal."

"My apologies, Lord Tsuberov," the blonde woman said, giving the collar chain a warning jerk. "I'm afraid he has rather uncooperative and argumentative tendencies." 

"Oh that's not a problem," Tsuberov assured her. "My trainers are very good; they'll soon teach him what is acceptable behaviour and discourage what is not." 

"And who will teach you the difference between acceptable and unacceptable behaviour?" Quatre muttered.

Dorothy pulled a strip of fabric from her pocket. "Do I need to gag you again?" she asked Quatre. "Lord Tsuberov is your new owner. You would do well to remember that. Cooperate or I will sedate you." 

Taking a step towards Quatre, she undid the laces of his shirt and pulled it up to display his upper body and stomach area. He stood perfectly still and said nothing. "Note the diamond birthmark," she told Tsuberov. "Normally the pigmentation is much lighter. The deep purple it is now indicates that he is with cub." Dorothy ran a hand over Quatre's chest and he flinched. "Note also the exquisite skin colouring. He and his offspring will be a worthwhile addition to your collection."

Something inside Trowa snapped. They were examining Quatre as though he were an animal at a marketplace auction. His husband and children were not going to be an addition to anyone's 'collection'. 

"Trowa, what are you doing?" Duo hissed. "There's more men coming from the other wagon. We need to wait."

"Take your hands /off/ him!" Trowa yelled. Breaking cover, he began walking towards Quatre only to be stopped by two of the men Duo had warned him about. "Get out of my way," he ordered. 

Quatre tried to take a step towards Trowa, but one of Dorothy's men grabbed the collar around his neck to prevent him moving. 

The men blocking Trowa's path dropped to the ground. "Didn't you hear him?" Duo asked, tucking the blowgun under his belt. "He told you to get out of his way." 

Shifting his grip quickly to an underhand one, Trowa swung his staff to deliver a blow to his opponent's stomach as another man approached, knife in hand. He grunted and Trowa hit him again, this time across his hand. There was a loud cracking noise and the knife hit the ground. "Damn you," the man yelled, coming for Trowa again.

Duo's attacker brought his arm up in an attempt to defend himself after Duo delivered an uppercut blow to his jaw followed by another to his stomach. Duo ducked, kicked him in the abdomen and sent him flying. "I thought you needed some help," Duo explained, giving Trowa a grin, "as you'd abandoned the original plan."

"Trowa, look out!" Quatre's warning came just in time, and Trowa used one leg to trip the man before delivering a blow to the back of his head with his staff. He hit the ground, twitched and lay still. 

"Healer Barton." The tone in Dorothy's voice caused Trowa to look up. She had one hand on Quatre's collar, a knife pressed against his throat with the other. "Put down your weapon and surrender."

"Dorothy, what are you doing?" Tsuberov glared at her. "He's no use to me dead."

"His skin is still worth a small fortune; either way I still get paid and I'm sure Barton doesn't want to take that chance. After all I believe he's quite fond of …Quatre. That's the name you use for him, isn't it, Barton?"

A noise of protest came from Quatre, and Dorothy applied more pressure to the knife. Trowa's eyes met his husband's and the staff fell to the ground at his feet. "I'm sorry, Quatre," he said. 

"And your companion," Dorothy requested. Duo dropped the blowgun, raised his hands in surrender and she lowered the knife. "It's a shame you can't teach your pet the same cooperation," Dorothy told Trowa, signalling her men to restrain them. 

"Quatre is not my pet," Trowa glared at her. "He's my husband." He shook off the man holding him. "You have no right to chain him like an animal, and you certainly have no right to sell him to this…man."

"Husband?" Dorothy laughed. "Come now, don't be ridiculous." 

"Trowa, please…" Quatre interrupted, "don't put yourself at risk to protect me. It's not worth it."

Dorothy glanced between them, her frown turning into a slow smile. "Often the one you seek is right in front of you," she exclaimed. "Why, Lord Tsuberov, I think we might have two for the price of one." Loosening her hold on Quatre, Dorothy shoved him towards Trowa. "Just as I thought," she said, as Trowa went to Quatre's aid, and took him into his arms. "You're his mate."

"Yes, I am, " Trowa told her, "and the children he's carrying are mine." Quatre shivered in his arms, and Trowa stroked his hair and brushed his lips against his cheek to reassure him. 

"No," Quatre said, "you don't understand. She thinks you're like me and wants to add you to his, " he spat the last word in Tsuberov's direction, "zoo." Pulling away from Trowa, Quatre fixed Dorothy with a glare. "Trowa's not a Solitaire, he's human." He laughed at her expression of disbelief but it was a choked noise, not the joyous sound Trowa was used to hearing. "Yes, I mated with a human. Trowa's not my master. He's my husband."

Dorothy snorted. "Prove it," she told Trowa. "Lift your shirt and show me your birthmark." 

"I don't have one," Trowa confirmed. He pulled up his shirt to reveal tanned unmarked skin. "As Quatre's just told you, I'm human."

"So unless you want to be brought up on kidnapping charges, I suggest you let them go." Duo broke into the conversation. "Both Trowa and Quatre are well respected healers in this community. If they were to disappear, it would cause a scandal." 

"Both?" Dorothy sounded surprised. "But Healer Barton…"

"My full name is Quatre Barton and /I'm/ the shire healer," Quatre sounded almost smug. "Trowa is the shire /animal/ healer. You're not a killer or a kidnapper, Dorothy. Even if you refuse to let me go, what are you going to do with Trowa or Duo?" 

"I'm also sure Lord Tsuberov would love a scandal attached to his name." Duo gave a mock bow. "I know who you are, m'lord, and your position in the community, and I'm not above revealing your part in this to protect my friends."

"He's bluffing," Dorothy said. "If you go public you'll have to reveal what Quatre is. Everyone will know he's not human, that's he's no more than an animal."

"Quatre is a good man, and I love him." Trowa struggled to keep the anger out of his voice. "He may not be fully human, but he has more humanity than you will ever possess. I'd prefer to take that risk than sentence him to a life in that prison you call a zoo, or…worse. And even if others agree with you about his status, I'll claim ownership. After all you do keep referring to him as my pet. Grand larceny doesn't carry as heavy a sentence as kidnapping or slavery but I'm not above using it to place a reward on your head, especially, as you say, his market value is extremely high. Either way, you can't have him." Trowa paused before continuing, "nor can you have my…our children." 

Tsuberov sounded agitated. "I can't afford to have my name attached to something like this. Next time you consider doing business with me, don't. I won't risk dealing with someone who doesn't do their research properly. Good day, Lady Dorothy." He bowed towards Trowa and Duo. "Gentlemen. Please accept my apology for your inconvenience."

"Inconvenience?" Trowa took a step towards him, but Quatre shook his head. 

"Let him go, Trowa. He's not worth the effort." 

"Are you sure you're all right?" Trowa asked, watching Tsuberov disappearing into the distance. "If he's hurt you…" 

"I'm fine," Quatre answered. "Or I will be once I get out of these handcuffs and collar." He winced. "My arms are stiff and my neck's sore."

Dorothy was watching them with a curious expression on her face. "You really do care for him don't you?" she asked Trowa. "Doesn't it matter to you that he's not human and that your children won't be either?"

"No," said Trowa. "It doesn't." He pulled Quatre towards him and kissed him soundly, not caring who was watching. "Give me the keys to his restraints, and then we'll leave. If I ever see you in this shire again, I won't hesitate in reporting you to the authorities." Trowa paused. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," replied Dorothy, dropping the keys into Trowa's waiting palm. "I believe I do." 

******

End of Chapter Three

TBC


	4. Epilogue

Solitaire (4/4)

by Anne Olsen

Ratings/Warnings: PG13 – OK (Oz/Kiwi spelling/grammar) – AU, fantasy, angst, drama, romance, MPREG.

Pairing: 3x4

Author's notes: This was a writing exercise that insisted on developing a plot. After reading a few mpregs I had the urge to write one myself, just to see if I could 'pull it off'. Enter Hex and Bast. They fed the bunnies, egged me on and helped sort out a lot of the finer details such as setting, procreation, and the like. Therefore I blame them. J 

Archive: 

Summary: Duo, a lore-master training to become a healer, is researching an extinct magical creature. He moves into the home of Quatre Barton, the shire's resident healer, to complete his training. Neither they, nor Quatre's husband, Trowa, are aware that their lives are about to take a very drastic turn. 

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I promise to return the boys in one piece, more or less, when I'm finished, but hold no liability for any broken bones or psychological trauma sustained by them in my fiction.

Thanks: To Bast and Hex for beta reading. Also to Anon, Windsor and Jessica for nagging me to post it. Thanks for the support, guys. 

Comments to: anneo @ paradise.net.nz

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Epilogue

Trowa lowered the wooden flute from his lips and smiled. He adjusted the blanket around his sleeping husband and placed the journal Quatre had been reading on the table with his flute. Quatre stirred but didn't wake. 

Sleep was becoming increasingly difficult the larger Quatre became; it was impossible to get comfortable with one baby jammed under his breastbone and the other having taken permanent residence over his bladder. Although Quatre didn't complain, Trowa knew he had constant backache and heartburn. It had been a relief for both of them once the morning sickness had passed. Every time Quatre had gotten a whiff of chicory in those early months both of them had felt ill, much to Duo's amusement. 

Although Duo had a way of getting on Trowa's nerves at times with his incessant questions – all in the name of research of course – the three of them had formed a close friendship over the past six months. Duo had also been able to convince Quatre to gradually hand the day to day running of his clinic over to him as his energy levels began to drop. Although Trowa had been reassured that it was perfectly normal for Quatre to become increasingly tired as his body focussed its energies on supplying for the needs of their growing unborn children, he found it difficult to hide his concern. 

"Trowa?" Quatre's eyes opened and he yawned. 

"I thought you were asleep," Trowa bent to give him a kiss.

"I was but our children had other ideas," Quatre sighed, placing one of Trowa's hands on his stomach. "I'm sure they're practising acrobatics in there." 

Trowa laughed. "It means they're healthy and active." He winced suddenly at the pain in his lower back. "Was that you or me?" 

"Me. Or rather them." Quatre placed his hand over Trowa's. "Do you ever regret the fact that you're married to someone who isn't human? That your children won't be human?" 

"Cat," Trowa told him, "I told Dorothy that it didn't matter, and it still doesn't." He squeezed Quatre's hand. "I know our children are fully Solitaire, that there's no part of me in their physical makeup," Trowa placed a finger on Quatre's lips, "but they were created by an act of love. By our act of love - they're /our/ children." He paused. "Besides I think the fact I've shared your morning sickness, back-pain, heartburn, and mood swings rather confirms that."

"Perhaps it's Duo we should feel more sorry for." Quatre chuckled. "We haven't been the best of company at times." 

"Did I hear my name?" A familiar voice broke into their conversation as Duo poked his head into the room. "Sorry for interrupting, but I'm going out for a while. I have some house calls to make. Is there anything you'd like me to get for you at the market?" He grinned. "And I know there are several people wanting updates on Quatre."

"If you could bring back some dried ground ginger, I'd appreciate it," Quatre answered. "I used the last of it this morning, and this heartburn is getting worse. I don't think the boys are going to wait much longer. They're getting restless."

Quatre was convinced he was carrying two boys and Trowa hadn't argued with him. Although his husband claimed that he didn't possess any other magical talents apart from empathy and apportation [1], his 'feelings' about such things were seldom wrong. 

"Just make sure they wait until I get back before they try anything," Duo frowned. "I don't have to go. I mean if you're going to need me…"

"I'm sure Tariq and Aurele will manage to come into the world without Uncle Duo's help if they have to," Trowa told him. "Quatre and I will be fine. Now go. You don't want to keep your patients waiting." 

"But I'm supposed to be Quatre's midwife," Duo protested. "I can't deliver the babies if I'm not here."

"The sooner you go, the sooner you'll be back," Trowa said. "Goodbye, Duo." 

Duo's frown turned into a cheeky grin. "Oh," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise. If you and Quatre want to get rid of me you should have just said so." 

"I just did," Trowa reminded him. 

"Goodbye, Duo," echoed Quatre, pulling Trowa down to give him a passionate kiss. "Now where were we before we were interrupted? I do believe you were about to tell me about this new position we could use to…"

"I've already heard far more about your sex life than I need to. I'll be back later. Don't start without me." Realising what he'd just said, Duo turned bright red. "I think I'll go now." He gave Quatre a pointed look and left the room. 

Quatre laughed and waved goodbye. "For someone so interested in mating rituals and procreation, he embarrasses easily." 

"And you enjoy embarrassing him just a little too much," Trowa returned the kiss. After a few not so gentle hints had failed to shift Duo's focus away from his fascination with Quatre and onto his studies as a healer, Quatre had opted for a slightly different approach. Trowa had been more than happy to follow his husband's lead, which in turn had made Quatre even more enthusiastic to implement it at every opportunity. 

"Hmm," Quatre replied through the kiss, before sighing and breaking it. "I'm sorry, I feel too uncomfortable to do anything tonight. I want to but…"  
  
"It's all right," Trowa reassured him. "I'm quite happy just to sit here and talk if you'd like." 

"I'd like that." Quatre paused and absently rubbed his back. "I wish…" He shook his head and sighed. 

"Wish what?" Trowa climbed onto the bed, eased Quatre forward and began to massage his lower back. "Better?" he asked. 

"Hmm," confirmed Quatre, "much better, thank you." He hesitated again before speaking. "I wish I knew more about myself, about my kind." Quatre leaned back to rest his head against Trowa's shoulder. Trowa stopped his ministrations and stroked Quatre's hair. "I don't know what to tell our children, Trowa, and reading the journal Duo found has only served to reinforce the realisation that there's so little I do know or remember about my family."  
  
"Duo doesn't know as much as he'd like us to think, either," Trowa tried to reassure Quatre. "We have to move forward to build a future instead of regretting the past." He brought his hand down to rest on Quatre's stomach and smiled as the outline of a tiny foot kicked him. "/We're/ a family now, Cat. There'll be new memories to replace the ones you've lost." 

Quatre's next words were spoken in a choked whisper. "I don't know why I was abandoned. Promise me that whatever happens, our children will grow up with at least one of us there for them until they are old enough to understand."

"I don't have any intention of abandoning either you or our children." Trowa said. "I thought we'd discussed this. I love you. I love our children." He stopped. "You're not having doubts again about trusting me, are you?"

"No," Quatre interlaced Trowa's fingers in his own. "I made a mistake in not trusting you before, I…I'm the one who should be asking you about trusting me." He smiled ruefully. "I've looked over my shoulder and kept what I am hidden for so long, even now it's something I have to consciously remember not to do. I do trust you, Trowa, but it's difficult to go against my instincts. I relaxed once before, and it nearly cost me my freedom. It could have cost me my life."

"We're in this together," Trowa said. "I don't expect you not to look over your shoulder in public; it's too dangerous not to. But you don't have to keep watch alone." 

"I still can't believe how the villagers supported us once they found out the truth," Quatre shook his head. "I lied to them, the same way I'd lied to you."

"You've saved a lot of lives, Cat," Trowa reminded him. Although they'd been suspicious of Quatre when he'd first arrived, he'd won over their trust and friendship with his good humour, gentleness and caring, even before he and Trowa fallen in love and later announced their intention to marry. "People don't forget that. I know you were worried about telling them but we didn't have a choice." 

"I know. Even though the pregnancy only lasts six months I wasn't expecting to show so early." Quatre shifted against Trowa in an attempt to get comfortable. "I don't know how human women cope with nine months, I want them out NOW." He muttered something under his breath. 

"It's all right," Trowa stroked Quatre's cheek. "I remember Cathy saying the same thing when she was pregnant."

"Cathy's been very good to us. Telling her first was the right thing to do."

Trowa smiled as he remembered his sister's reaction. "She can be a bit over-protective towards those she cares about." After she'd recovered from the shock, Cathy had made it clear that if anyone came after Quatre again, or the children, they'd have her to deal with, as would any villagers who voiced their opposition. 

"And of course you're nothing like that at all, are you?" After they'd rescued Quatre from Dorothy and Tsuberov, Trowa hadn't wanted to let him out of his sight and had stayed by his side constantly. After the first week, Quatre had accused Trowa of being over-protective and informed him of his need for personal space. 

There was a moment's silence between them until Quatre finally spoke. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I know you were just showing your concern."

"Yes," Trowa said, gently. "I was. I am. I nearly lost you once, the idea of it happening again scares me." The fact that the further the pregnancy advanced and Quatre grew less able to fend off possible attackers, the stronger the empathic bond between them became had finally convinced Trowa that he didn't need to be with Quatre all the time to reassure himself that he was safe. 

"Once I've had the boys, my other abilities will hopefully return, along with my figure. I wasn't able to show you them before, but now…" Quatre sighed. "Not being able to defend myself isn't a situation I'm particularly happy about." 

"Well, yes," Trowa agreed, his mouth twitching. "The only advantage you have at present is your size. You'd have to sit on them."

Quatre poked out his tongue. "And here was I thinking you liked my new improved size for other reasons." He grinned. "If I could find some energy we could try and find yet another interesting position to get around my stomach. All in the name of research for Duo of course."

"Of course," Trowa rolled his eyes. 

"Trowa?" 

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to go for a walk?" Quatre attempted to pull himself into a sitting position, and Trowa eased himself out from behind him so that he could help. 

"Are you feeling all right?"

"Maybe a bit restless," Quatre smiled at him as Trowa bent to slip on his shoes and tie them. It had been several weeks since he'd be able to see past his stomach. "Thank you. I'm looking forward to being able to do that for myself again." 

Trowa rose to his feet and held out his hand. Once Quatre had a firm hold he pulled him from the bed, and into an embrace. "Let's enjoy some time together while we still can," he suggested. 

"I'd like that," Quatre said. He caressed Trowa's cheek. "I love you, Trowa Barton. You're a good man and I couldn't wish for a better person to share my life with."

"I love you too," Trowa shifted his arm to around what was left of Quatre's waist and together they headed out into the bright sunshine. 

Upon reaching the front gate, Quatre stopped and laid a hand on his stomach. He gasped and Trowa felt another twinge of the pain in his lower back he'd felt earlier. 

"Do you want to go back?" he asked Quatre.

Quatre shook his head and smiled, his hair golden against the rays of the sun. "No going back." He glanced down at his stomach and placed Trowa's hand over his. "We have a future to build…" 

=============================================================

~fin~

[1] Apportation is a subspecies of teleportation. In this universe it is closely linked to telekinesis – the ability to move objects by the power of the mind. 


End file.
